Street Stupid
by Phx
Summary: Sam goes out to pick up some soup for his brother and a couple of burgers for himself... Sound simple enough, huh? Yeah. That's what Dean thought, too...


**Another one shot and this one is dedicated to my wonderful beta who does live in Delaware. I just thought I'd put Dean in reach for her, this time, since she is a Dean girl **

**Thanks! Darlin' - Phoenix**

**Street Stupid**

-The Story-

Sam navigated the back streets of Claymont, Delaware _very_ carefully. He was behind the wheel of his brother's cherished 1967 black Impala, driving under the threat of permanent bodily damage if he let anything happen to the car.

Back in the small motel room they'd gotten for the night, Dean was sleeping off the pain medication the doctor had prescribed when a nasty ear infection knocked the tough demon hunter flat on his ass. Sam, tired of watching his brother flop back and forth uncomfortably on the bed, had offered to pick them up something to eat. Shockingly Dean had only wanted soup.

So with a fresh twenty dollar bill and his brother's car keys, Sam had left the motel. That had been almost fifteen minutes ago. Now, with a container of hot soup and a couple of burgers, the young man made his way back to their room.

Humming softly to himself, Sam stopped at a red light about two blocks from the motel and waited patiently for it to change. Except for Dean being a bit more cranky than usual, it was turning out to be a rather nice evening – and then driver's side door yanked open and the young hunter found himself staring into the business end of a snub nosed revolver.

"Out of the car," a lethal voice hissed and Sam just stared at him in disbelief. He was being car-jacked!

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

An incessant buzzing noise woke Dean. He glared at the clock accusingly, wondering if his pain-in-the-ass brother had done this on purpose; setting the accursed thing and then gone out.

Rolling onto his side, he reached out and slapped the old style clock off the night table, satisfied when the thing shut off with a thud as it hit the floor. Sighing, he closed his eyes and lay back.

Wait a sec –

_Where was Sam?_

Opening his eyes again and checking his wristwatch for verification, Dean scowled. Sam had left over two hours ago…

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

"This is stupid," Sam growled as he drove aimlessly around town at the beck and call of the punk with the gun.

"Shut up," the punk snapped, his eyes shifting from out the front window, to Sam, and then back out the window again. "I'm thinking."

"If you were thinking, you'd never have done this in the first place," the young hunter was amazed at how wise-assed his mouth was tonight; Dean would be proud. If he didn't get his 'wise-ass' shot that was.

So far so good. For the past couple of hours, the increasingly agitated car-jacker had just had Sam drive… well once he got over the shock that the stubborn young man was NOT going to just give up his car. Apparently the kid was more concerned about someone named 'Dean' than he was a bullet in the head – this seemed to amuse the thug so he didn't shoot the kid. Not yet anyway.

The punk pointed the gun at Sam's temple. "You're only alive as long as I'm amused. And let me tell you right now. I am not amused."

Sam grunted, once again startled by the workings of his mouth. He idly wondered if he had become possessed by Dean sometime during this latest 'adventure'. "I do card tricks. Is that amusing enough for you?"

The punk snorted and lowered the gun. He smirked. "Maybe. I'll get back to you on that."

The young hunter continued to drive.

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

Dean sat up on the bed and reached for his cell phone. "If your reason for screwing around doesn't involve long legs and boobs, you are so dead little brother," he groused as he pressed the autodial for his brother's cell phone. In truth he was worried; an uneasiness had settled in the pit of his stomach and he did not like this one bit. Sam was never late. Sam was the reliable one. When Sam was late it usually meant trouble.

Dean hoped this time would be different but as the phone rang unanswered in his ear, he didn't hold out much hope…

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

Sam flinched when he heard his phone ring. The carjacker glared at him. "Don't answer it."

"It'll be my brother," the younger man said. "If I don't answer he'll call the cops – he's a bit paranoid that way." Sam shrugged apologetically. "What can I say? He loves this old car. You might even say it's his baby."

"Okay. Okay," the punk grouched. "But say one word and your brother gets to clean your blood off his interior."

Sam nodded his understanding and pulled out his phone. As expected it was Dean.

"Hey big brother," he said warmly, "How you feeling?"

…_Have you been drinking?..._ Dean's voice burst in his ear, sounding furious by Sam's glib greeting.

The young hunter gave a nervous laugh, very aware of the hostile eyes watching him. Mind you that was nothing compared to the hostile voice in his ear that didn't give him a chance to answer, but ranted on.

…_Where the fuck are you anyways? Do you have any idea how long you've been gone? If you put even a scratch on my car…_ Dean's voice trailed off, not needing to finish that warning.

"Your car is fine," Sam said glancing across at the carjacker again.

…_Well then get your scrawny ass back here with my soup! I'm a sick man you know…_

"Yeah I know," the younger Winchester replied distractedly. His mind was racing with some way to alert Dean to his problem, without alerting the other man. "Uh Dean?" he started hesitantly.

…_What?..._ Geez, did his brother always have to sound like he was ready to rip Sam a new one?

"I'm going to be a little while yet, so you and Dad might want to start that movie without me. I'll be there as soon as I can-" and then without saying another word, Sam hung up and turned off his phone.

If that didn't set off alarms for Dean, the younger man didn't know what would.

He glanced at the thug who nodded his head in appreciation. "Good job," the man declared and then indicated out the front window again. "Now just keep driving."

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

"The little shit hung up on me!" Dean stared at the phone in disbelief, and then Sam's odd comment and behavior furrowed his brow_. "What the fuck?"_

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

"Stop," the man suddenly said after they pulled into a dark alley.

Sam did so even as his heart started to pound in his chest. This couldn't be good.

"What's your brother like?" the thug asked out of the blue as they sat there in the car.

"My brother?" Sam eyed the man suspiciously. _Why was this man curious about Dean?_

"Am I not speaking English here?" Came a sarcastic retort. "Let me repeat myself then. What is your brother like?"

"I dunno," Sam said, not sure what this guy was looking for. He shrugged. "He's just my brother. The toughest, shit-eating, asskicker on the face of the planet but still just my brother - "

"_My_ big brother," he amended softly after a moment.

The man snorted. "Well you must think pretty highly of him to keep his car like this - " he cocked his head to the side and appraised Sam carefully. "Either that or you're afraid of him."

Sam actually laughed. It was short and curt. "Afraid of Dean?" He shook his head vehemently, his voice tinged with a resoluteness that came from a lifetime of hero worship. "No way. My brother would kill for me or die for me but he'd never hurt me… Not on purpose anyways."

"You're lucky than," the carjacker said after a moment. He seemed to be reflecting on what Sam had told him. He sighed. "I had a brother once - " he paused and then added. "I killed him."

Sam's eyes widened and the man laughed. "Oh now you're afraid of me."

"No." The young hunter denied. "Now I pity you." Sam kept eye contact with the gunman as he continued softly. "What is this really about? This carjacking and driving around for hours – what do you want?"

"I don't know," the man admitted, his voice tinged with weariness. "It just seemed like a good plan at the time. I saw this car and I just had to have it. You being part of the package was not in the plan."

"You always go around looking for cars to steal?" Sam asked, not sure what to make of this most recent confession.

"Not particularly," the thug snorted. "Only on nights after I killed my brother."

Sam shivered. "You killed him tonight?"

"Yup," the man actually gloated. He looked at the gun affectionately. "With this gun too." His gaze turned to Sam again. "So you're the younger brother huh?"

Sam nodded slightly trying to put some sense to where this might be going and he felt a coldness wash over him as the man smirked. "Well ain't that a coincidence. He was my kid brother too."

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

Dean needed a plan but that was the one thing he didn't have. Sam had the car and had apparently found himself some heap of trouble but Dean had no idea where to even start looking for him, or how to help.

He chafed at his own helplessness, even as he shoved a gun into the waistband of his pants and tried Sam's cell again.

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

"I want to meet your brother," the man suddenly said. He looked at Sam.

"Why?" the young hunter asked even as he put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb.

He received no answer.

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

Dean had just fired his phone across the room in agitation when he heard the familiar rumble of his car pull into the parking lot.

"About fucking time," he grumbled moving towards the window and looking out – Sam's weird phone call kept him on alert. He frowned as he saw someone else in the car with Sam. His frown intensified when he saw the gun glint briefly as it was turned on his brother.

_Shit!_

Immediately Dean had his own revolver out and had crouched down, pushing the window open slightly and watching as the stranger and Sam just sat in the car.

Dean watched the man and saw him say something to Sam. The younger Winchester nodded slowly, his eyes firmly fixed on the window, although Dean knew his brother couldn't see him. And then Sam moved slowly and a moment later, the older man heard his cell phone ringing.

He let out an angry snort. The phone was halfway across the room. To get it he'd have to take his eyes off the car.

The phone kept ringing. Dean knew it was Sam and finally moved to retrieve it.

"Yeah," he said softly into the phone as he pressed it to his ear and then crept back to the window. Nothing had changed in the car.

…_Hey Dean…_ came Sam's voice. Something tightened in Dean's chest at the slight waver he heard in the tone. _Had Sam been driving around with this guy for the past couple of hours?_

Before Dean could say anything else, he saw and heard the phone being taken away from Sam and then he heard a cold, deep voice.

…_Your brother was very stupid tonight…._

"Yeah. Well - " Dean said, his own tone low and dangerous as his whole body bristled, "he's been known to have an off night."

…_He should have just given me your car… He'd have saved us all a whole world of trouble…._

'_Aw shit Sammy,_' Dean internally groaned, realizing this guy was a carjacker. Out loud he sighed as he watched the man carefully. "Well let me do the honors then. Let him go and the car's yours…" _'until I hunt you down like the animal you are and pound your ass into yesterday'_, he mentally continued.

The man laughed in his ear.

…_I don't think so…_

Dean watched the man point the gun at Sam. Fuck.

Slowly the hunter stood, his own gun aimed on the man. The phone fell to the floor as Dean saw the slightest motion of the stranger's finger on the trigger. His own gun fired first.

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

Sam instinctively ducked at the sound of the gunshot; glass raining down on him as he froze and then waited for the blinding pain that never came.

Instead there was just quiet, brief but loud, before the sound of his brother's voice and a door banging open broke the respite.

…

"Sammy!" Dean shouted moving swiftly towards the car. The carjacker was slumped over, dead, against the passenger side of the car but his brother was nowhere in sight. _Had he been quick enough?_

With a pounding heart, Dean reached the driver side and whipped the door open, unsure what he'd find. And then he exhaled loudly as Sam moved slowly, his eyes wide as he fixed on Dean.

"Shit Sammy," the older Winchester said as he quickly appraised his brother for damage. "What hell kind of toy did your happy meal come with?"

Sam blinked and then closed his eyes and snorted. That had been just a little too close…

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

The police came and went before Dean got a chance to slap his brother across the back of his head, hard.

"Ouch!" Sam yelped and turned a glare on the older hunter. "What the hell was that for?"

"For being fucking stupid!" Dean growled, watching as the last of the blue and white squad cars left the motel parking lot. The carjacker had turned out to be a psychotic man wanted for the brutal murders of two other men and a woman, earlier that night. One of the men had been identified as the man's younger brother. Apparently he killed them in a fit of rage after they accused him of cheating during a poker game gone bad.

The police told Dean his brother was incredibly lucky and foolhardy. He summed it up nicely as 'fucking stupid.'

"What?" Sam protested, sitting down wearily on the edge of his bed. "I didn't let him take your car – I thought you'd be happy."

"Happy?" Dean snorted as he stared at his brother in disbelief, "_Happy?_ Sam are you street stupid or something? Why the hell would I be happy over you almost getting killed over a car? Dude, that's just stupid!"

"But-" Sam looked at his brother, clearly confused. "It's your car – your baby… I can't even get in the passenger seat without you warning me of the dire consequences of putting a ripple in the vinyl-"

"Leather-" Dean growled and then sighed loudly in frustration as he paced back in forth in front of his younger brother for a few long moments. Sometimes he just did not know what to do with Sam – the kid was supposed to be the smart one. And then he just stopped and looked at Sam in disbelief. "Whoa a minute. Do you actually think that that car comes ahead of you in the pecking order of importance?"

Sam shrugged. His voice was quiet. "Well. Yeah. Kinda. Sorta…"

Dean snorted. "Damn straight. Glad you got your priorities right, for once." He moved towards the bathroom door, and then stopped and added, his voice low and warning. "But let me tell you this once, little brother, and only once… The next time someone puts you between them and my car – let them take the god-damned car!" He stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Sam sunk back against his bed and closed his eyes. He exhaled wearily. Looking back on this night he decided his brother was right. He had been fucking stupid…

But in the end, if he had to do it all over again, he wouldn't have changed a thing. Sam _knew_ he was more important than the Impala – even if he said otherwise to Dean – but the bottom line was that the car was also important to his brother. And that mattered to Sam.

Dean seldom accepted anything from his younger brother, particularly Sam's appreciation, and sometimes it wasn't the 'thank you's' that were _said_ that truly meant something, but the 'I-know-what-matters-to-you' and 'it-matters-to-me-too' that were; things like what he had done tonight.

Getting up, Sam moved towards the motel door, opened it and leaned heavily against the frame, his arms folded across his chest. He stared at the car, shining black in the night, her front windshield needing replacing now, and a bloody mess needing to be cleaned up in the morning, but the young hunter never saw any of that.

All he saw was the third member of their team; her skin might be metallic but she was kin nonetheless.

"Good night," he whispered to the Impala and went back inside.

The End


End file.
